The Truth of the Lies
by Amazingfullyweird
Summary: Harry Potter was a no good, attention seeking lair. She was sure of it. She just needed proof. So when so Dolores Umbridge takes drastic measures, the truth comes out and Harry Potter is ruined; anything anyone ever thought they knew about him was wrong. She had finally exposed the truth about him. But it wasn't the truth she was expecting. It wasn't the truth anyone was expecting.
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own anything even remotely Harry Potter recognizable.**

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This is a reading the books story with both Next Gen and Marauders Era characters in the present (5th year) Harry Potter Hogwarts. So, be warned of characters that wouldn't interact with each other sitting on the same bench and things like that.

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Dolores Umbridge has had _enough_. It was one thing for the Minister to place her in that dratted school to begin with. It was another to have to put up with Dumbledore as her _superior_. She had thought she would have lost it if she had to listen to that old man one more day. He was clearly off his rocker, completely mad, and yet people still looked up to him, ignoring the wisdom of their Minister.

But she had been wrong.

The last straw, the very last test of her patience, had been in the form of an attention seeking, no-good, famous _boy._ That blasted _Harry Potter_. He thought he could make up lies, outrageous and dangerous lies, to try and usurp the Ministry. On behalf of his precious Headmaster, no doubt. He was nothing more than a pampered brat who thought he could do anything, so long as he got all the attention and credit for it. He thought just because he was famous when he was a baby, he was untouched by law.

Well, she planned to prove him wrong.

It was clear the Quill was not doing its job properly, so she was going to have to resort to drastic measures.

Her thin lips curled up in a sickly sweet smile as she plotted her plan. It was going to be perfect, and Harry Potter was going to be revealed as the attention seeking liar he was.

She just needed help, and the perfect audience.

Umbridge laughed, a deep, horrible cackle, her toad-like face twisted into a cruel look of victory. She had won this time.

..

Harry Potter was one of the last people in the Great Hall. Next to him, walking towards the Gryffindor table, were Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. The rest of the D.A. had already arrived and were sitting at their respective tables. They had been in the middle of a meeting when the announcement had played over the school, calling all teachers, students, and staff to the Great Hall immediately. They had to leave in small groups as to not raise suspicion, but it was hard to get everyone down from the Seventh Floor in a believable amount of time.

They had to leave quickly, no questions asked, and now everyone was concerned. Harry could feel the eyes of the D.A. members from every direction, every table, bar Slytherin, pleading for information. He wished he could tell them something, but he was just as clueless as the rest of them. He had no idea why Umbridge would call the whole school down, nor why it could be so important that she called the _Minister of Magic_ to Hogwarts. But there he was, sitting next to the Headmaster's seat in the middle of the long table at the front of the Great Hall. A chair had been pulled up next to the much more ornate seat, and the Minister sat in it with a grumpy expression on his face, angrily aware of this fact. The other teachers looked just as uncomfortable having to share their table with him as he did sitting there.

Harry hadn't the faintest idea what he had done this time around, but he must have done something, because Umbridge was standing behind the Headmaster's podium, the one Dumbledore used for Start-of-Term speeches and any important ones there-after, staring at him with a cold look, as if he was everything wrong in the world. In her eyes, he probably was. And although her head just barely poked out from the top of the stand, the intensity and pure hate in her stare made her seem absolute and giant. Harry wanted to shrink back; he was used to the small glares he'd get from her and a handful of students who believed the Daily Prophet, but this was different. This one was a cruel, victorious smirk, a proud gaze he'd seen in small portions numerous times, but never so out right. It unnerved him.

..

No one had dared say a word from the moment they stepped into the Hall. Everyone knew that whatever they were called here for would be terrible, for it was never anything different when Umbridge was involved. Normally the Slytherins would be smirking where they sat, glaring at everyone, silent laughter in their eyes at the other students discomfort, because if it had anything to do with making the school life miserable for others, they would have been told. This time, they were in the dark as well, as clueless as a common Hufflepuff.  
Umbridge interrupted the silence with a shrill, "Hem hem."

No one moved, everyone had already been looking at her, dreading whatever was about to come out of her mouth.

"It has come to my attention that a certain Harry Potter is still spreading about lies, and that fact alone must be dealt with."

Before she could even finish her sentence, the Hall erupted in chaos. Half screaming at her for calling Harry a liar, the other half yelling at Harry for all the lies he's spread in this year alone.

She smiled at the hate the boy was getting, relishing in the half that was finally realizing the boy's lies. She didn't even wait until it was quiet once again before she continued.

"This time, we will hear it all. I have uncovered a way to find out the real truth, the truth Mr Potter seems so intent on hiding."

Harry paled. It wasn't like he was hiding anything, but if she was so intent on getting what she thought was the truth, Harry shivered, there was no telling what it was she was planning on doing. Harry clenched his left hand by his side. She's already used the Blood Quill; she's not against anything illegal.

But she wasn't nearly done yet.

"I have gathered books, describing Mr Potter's life from the time he started Hogwarts to now, which will unveil his every misstep, his every mistake and his every lie. And we will read them, for however long it takes, to expose all his lies and deceits."

No one spoke, too shocked or outraged or disgusted about this revelation to make any sort of response. Silence was obviously not the reaction Umbridge had been expecting, been hoping for, but she didn't let it faze her as she waved her stubby wand around the room quickly, muttering a few incoherent spells as she did.

"With a little bit of help, I have set up spells around this room. For as long as it takes to reveal his lies, the outside world will not feel a second. No time will pass outside this room and no one will be able to enter or exit those doors."

But, of course, that's when the doors to the Hall burst open and four figures ran in, slamming the doors behind them.

..

James Potter was in trouble this time. He knew he shouldn't have ticked off Filch that far, but Sirius had thought it would be funny and, well, James couldn't say he wasn't right about that. Just don't ask Remus about it, he'll start talking about how the joke went too far, but honestly, he was being a killjoy. They wouldn't even have gotten caught if it wasn't for Remus being the no-fun respectable one. But now they have been caught, and the only nights they don't already have detention are Quidditch nights. Neither Sirius nor James would risk losing that and Remus didn't want to be the one responsible for them missing a match. Peter had extra work to do so he was up in the Common Room, but the trio were wishing he were here right now, they needed someone to take the blame. They didn't like thinking that, he was their friend after all, but they also knew the teachers would take pity on Peter and no punishment would fall on him.

Now James ran up the hall on the sixth floor, Sirius and Remus behind him. No one usually came up this high in the castle this late at night, so they were all surprised when James ran into someone at the end of the hall. The other figure fell down to the ground as Sirius and Remus caught up to James, staring down at the red-head on the ground.

"Lily!" James smiled. Sirius and Remus laughed quietly behind him. Lily did not find the moment so amusing.

"Watch it, Potter."

"What are you doing all the way up here?" James asked her, the smile still on his face.

"Answer that later." Sirius cut in. "Run!"

..

Lily Evans didn't know what was happening, but suddenly she was being pulled along various hallways and up a flight of stairs to the Seventh Floor. Their route seemed random, but the three boys ran fast and with a purpose like they knew where they were going. Then without warning, the boys snapped around and ran down the hall in the direction they just came from. They almost made it back to the end before they turned once more and ran towards the middle of the same hallway.

Where there had been smooth wall moments ago, now stood a great pair of doors. Lily had just enough time to think that the doors looked slightly familiar before James took a hold of her arm and ran towards them. The four students ran inside and pushed the doors closed once again.

..

Umbridge wasn't just shocked, she was furious. She had just told everyone the biggest news of the year: that she could, and will, expose all of that Potter boy's lies, and made it very clear no one would be coming in or out of those doors, only for them to go and burst open. Four students, four extra students mind you, went ahead and broke her spell, a spell she was promised would work, that lying rat. And the students weren't even attempting to break it; they weren't gloating about it or cheering about it at all. They didn't even have their wands out! She would not stand for this.

The three Marauders and the person they kidnapped were leaning against the door, their breathing laboured. Sirius Black fought the urge to laugh at his friends; Remus Lupin fought the urge to call out 'I told you so'.

James still held on to Lily's wrist and he was well aware of this fact. He took it as personal pride that she hadn't pulled her wrist out of his grip yet. It had to mean she was not as repulsed by him as she liked to portray.

Lily, in actuality, was too distracted by their new scenery to pay much attention to the idiot next to her.

Umbridge cleared her throat, partly to get the attention of the four new brats, partly to get the attention of the room full of familiar brats. She had the proof she needed to expose Potter, she would be damned if she let four _kids_ upstart her by merely walking into the room.

Everyone's head snapped around and they straightened up, as if afraid to be caught looking anywhere other than her. Lily faced her as well, though she looked confused rather than nervous.

The three Marauders turned to her, horrible excuses ready to roll off their tongues. Words were out of their mouths before they had even looked at her, vague and inexact sentences mixed in the air before falling flat at the unfamiliar face.

"Who are you?" Lily asked Umbridge bluntly. James looked at her, a large grin taking over his face.

"Evans!" He called out, laughing. "That was almost mean! I knew we were getting to you."

She just scowled at him, displeased at his enjoyment.

Umbridge, with an equally displeased scowl, answered with a biting tone, "I'd watch it if I were you, you are talking to the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, Dolores Jane Umbridge."

Lily did not understand what that title entailed, but the woman, Dolores Umbridge, had said it with pride in her voice and her head held up high, so it had to have been important. She nodded as if she understood and looked around the room. She now recognised it as the Great Hall but it seemed off somehow, different from when she saw it the previous morning. The castle walls seemed light and the Enchanted Ceiling was clear and bright, but the room itself seemed dark and weighted, and Lily felt angry. The shock was wearing off, everything was catching up to her, and she felt angry.

She curled her fists and ripped her wrist out of the grip of the one to blame. She turned on him.

"This is your fault, Potter."

"A lot of things are, Evans, and I take credit for a lot of them. But this," he gestured to his surroundings with a shrug, "this one isn't mine."

She glared, accusing him of something. "Potter." She warned. He grinned lazily back at her.

"You know me, Lils; I'm not smart enough for something like this. But you are. Maybe this was all your doing. To get us alone." It didn't make any sense, even to him, but it would get a reaction out of her and that was all he lived for. "After all, students don't usually hang around the sixth floor at night for fun. What were you doing up there all by yourself?"

"Sev." Was her reply and it wasn't the answer James was looking for. He looked at her confused, his cocky attitude dropping.

"I was meeting Severus. I'll have missed it now."

James rolled his eyes, his attitude back. Of course it was, it was always _Sev._ He was the thing in between James finally getting Lily. Dozens of biting remarks made their way to his mouth and he rolled them around with his tongue before choosing the perfect insult.

But Lily wasn't finished.

"How am I going to explain to Severus that I missed our meeting because I became an unwilling accomplice with three/fourths of his bullies, running to a random room on the Seventh Floor and ended up in the Great Hall the next day?" Lily demanded, not bothering to lower her voice as she knew the whole school was used to her outbursts at James Potter and his gang.

James was surprised to see that the Enchanted Ceiling did, in fact, show a bright blue daytime sky, but would never let that show on his face. He loved his Lily-flower, but she could be a nightmare when she found out she knew something he didn't.

"Tell him you didn't want to meet up with him, so you skipped it. That's what anyone else would tell that greasy-hair git." He told her easily.

..

If Severus Snape had been paying attention to James, he would have replied in a way that would have gotten him expelled when he was at school. But since she stepped through the door, Snape had not taken his eyes off of Lily Evans. It couldn't actually be _her_ , he knew. Someone was bound to be pulling a prank on him, and he would punish them later for it, absolutely. But for now, he would enjoy seeing his Lily once more, when she didn't hate him.

Professor Minerva McGonagall, on the other hand, wasn't going to let the comment slide, even if it was meant for twenty-five years prior and the commenter was, in fact, dead.

"James Potter, you do not talk about your fellow students that way!" She yelled at him, paying no mind to the confusion that surrounded his name. She could almost remember back when James and Lily were at Hogwarts. She could almost pretend like they were really back, arguing like they did in school. Though she knew it was too good to be anywhere close to the truth, she would enjoy pretending for now.

"What have I done now?" Another voice spoke up. It was another boy, and if it weren't for the lack of glasses and slight red tint in his hair, he could have been a clone of the boy at the doors to the Great Hall. "Come on McGonagall, term just started I couldn't have possibly done anything yet."

While people were startled by the new voice, they were even more surprised to find the owner was currently sat at the Gryffindor table.

A redheaded girl sitting a few seats down from him seemed to find the comment funny. She snorted a laugh before she spoke.

"That is a blatant lie James, and you know it. You got yourself a detention before the Sorting was over last term."

"Not fair Lily, Al made me do it and you know it." He replied, seemingly ignoring the startled looks sent his way.

There was a groan from the Slytherin table and heads whipped around to find a black-haired boy looking remarkably like the Boy-Who-Lived shaking his head.

"I was across the bloody hall, don't you dare blame your mistake on me."

..

James Sirius Potter was kind of freaking out. He was seventeen, which means that this year would be the start of his seventh year- his very last year- at Hogwarts. He wasn't sure he was ready to leave yet. When his father told him that Hogwarts felt like home, James had laughed- it was school, how could anyone, besides his Aunt Hermione, enjoy school? But he understood now. Hogwarts has become his home away from home, a place where he could make a name for himself beyond his last name, and yet feel close to his family and everything they've done.

But now his time was running out.

Not only was he going to lose one of the best places in his life, he had yet to leave his mark (although if you ask Headmistress McGonagall, she'd tell you he'd left a few too many marks).

But he needed to do something big, like his Uncle George told him he did with Fred. And it would have been. He had planned out all the steps, all the little pranks and schemes that would lead up to the big finale at the end of the year.

What he hadn't planned on, was Lily.

He loved his little sister, but she could be bloody little menace. She had found his stash of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes products and set off a third of them on the train ride to Hogwarts. James was careful about having them and knew that the commotion couldn't be traced back to him or Lily (the products were too popular nowadays, as common in school trunks as ink and parchment), but the loss set his plans back nearly two months.

He knew he had to do something to make up for his set-back and he had to do it fast. He had to make sure Lily helped him, too. She was the reason his plans were ruined after all. Maybe he'd rope Al into helping him as well. The kid just had to help his big brother, right?

As James sat picking at his dinner, he heard something he was rather quite familiar with: Headmistress McGonagall yelling his name.

"James Potter, you do not talk about your fellow students that way!" She exclaimed.

James was so startled by the unexpected outburst he didn't seem to remember that he hadn't spoken out-loud all dinner, nor did he notice she wasn't actually looking at him. The excuse slipped out of his mouth naturally.

"What have I done now? Come on McGonagall, term just started I couldn't have possibly done anything yet."

Lily apparently thought this was funny as she laughed at him from her seat across from him.

"That is a blatant lie James, and you know it. You got yourself a detention before the Sorting was over last term."

Well what did she know? She was only 13 after all.

"Not fair Lily, Al made me do it and you know it." He replied.

Over at the Slytherin table Al groaned. James grinned; he loved getting a rise out of his younger brother.

"I was across the bloody Hall; don't you dare blame your mistake on me."

Well what did he know? He was only a Slytherin after all.

..

James Sirius stood up and was turning to face Al when something at the Head Table caught his eye. He paused and looked closer. No, it couldn't be.

"Is that-" he paused not wanting to sound entirely loopy but sure what his eyes were showing him couldn't possibly be true. "Is that Dumbledore?"

He turned to Lily Luna with confusion in his eyes. "Lily, does that look like Dumbledore to you?"

"Don't be daft James, you know it can't be." She replied. Never the less she did raise out of her seat and turn to look at the Head Table to see what James meant. Her eyes widened. Facial hair was a popular statement among older wizards, but no one else and anything close to that long silver beard.

"Holy-" she breathed. "James, that's Dumbledore! But that's not possible! James! Dumbledore!"

The man in question too rose from his chair and addressed the two siblings standing in awe at the Gryffindor table. "I assure you miss, I am in fact Albus Dumbledore. But I must admit, I don't know who either of you may be."

James Sirius stuttered out an answer, the first time he was truly nervous around a professor. "My-I-er-I'm James Potter, sir. I-I can't believe that you-how are you even-I-I don't understand."

Dumbledore looked towards his colleagues, mirroring the looks of confusion spreading around the Hall.

"I'm afraid I'm not sure I do either." He shoots a look towards Lily Luna. "And you might be?"

"Lily." She replied, voice shaking a bit. "Lily Potter."

"I see."

Muttering broke out among the students in the Hall and Lily Luna took a nervous glance around. She calmed only slightly when she saw few familiar faces: Rose Weasley a few seats down at the Gryffindor table, Hugo Weasley at Ravenclaw, Scorpius Malfoy at Hufflepuff, and her brother Albus across the Hall at Slytherin. But her breathing quickened as she realised she didn't recognise anyone else.

"Silence!"

Noise throughout the Great Hall ceased. People looked away from the newly proclaimed Potters and towards the pink menace still standing in front of the Head Table. Umbridge took a deep breath and put on a false smile.

"Now I have had just about enough of these disruptions. The two of you will stop this foolish game you are playing and sit back down or you both will be severely punished."

"Oh, believe me, I wish this was a game. It'd be a lot less terrifying than whatever the hell is actually going on." James Sirius chuckled nervously.

"I said enough-" Umbridge's rage was cut off by a figure standing up from across the Hall.

"I hate to back James up, but I'm afraid he is telling the truth this time. If I were you, I'd cherish it, it's likely the first time he's ever been so honest with a professor." The figure ran his fingers through his hair and looked up. Gasps ran around the room as the familiar face of Harry Potter gazed around from the Slytherin table.

Harry himself stood from his spot and stared at the other boy. Heads moved from one end of the Hall to the other, startled by how similar the faces were. Looking the same age, the only differences between the two was a lack of scar and glasses on one of the boys. That and the fact one of them stood proudly in Slytherin robes while the other wore Gryffindor.

The Slytherin boy broke the staring match by looking around the Hall. "My name is Al Potter."

The silence stretched on as no one knew what to do or say regarding these new revelations. James Sirius seemed to find something however.

"Hey Al, do you think it would be better or worse if you told them your full name?" Lily Luna reached across the table to smack the back of his head, but the damage was already done.

"What-" Harry stuttered. "What exactly is your full name?"

Al seemed hesitant and glanced around at all the students looking at him expectantly. His eye caught blond hair over at the Hufflepuff table and his best friend Scorpius gave him a little smile, a sign of encouragement. Al sighed.

"Albus. My full name is Albus," he paused, contemplating actually saying it. "Severus Potter." Guess he was.

Expressions quickly turned surprised and horrified. Al snorted.

"Yeah, I know. I've been mad at Dad for it as long as I can remember. How he managed to get Mum to agree to it, I'll never know."

Once again, no one seemed to know what to do.

Ron and Hermione were among the most confused and stared at Harry as if he'd have an answer. Al looks too much like Harry for the name 'Potter' to be any sort of coincidence so Harry had to be the Dad Al referred to. Somehow. Harry, like the rest of the Hall continued to watch Al, taking in how much they looked alike and trying to figure out how any of what's going on makes any sort of sense. Snape for his part, contained his shock rather well and instead merely narrowed his eyes, watching to see if someone was playing a prank on the Hall. A rather elaborate prank at that, for Snape had not forgotten the woman who looked so much like his Lily who barged in with others not too long ago. The four of them had remained silent at the doors this whole time.

"Rose Weasley!"

People were startled out of their stupor by a girl rising from her seat near Lily Luna. She played with the end of her Gryffindor tie as people turned their attention on her.

"That's me, hello." She waved and bit her lip. Al shot her a grateful look and she nodded at him. Rose wasn't the biggest fan of attention but it beats people staring at her cousin like a freak.

The other Weasley children looked at each other, silently trying to decide which of them would end up being her parent.

A young boy rose from the Ravenclaw table so suddenly, the kids sitting near him jumped and scooted away from him.

"I'm Hugo." He said. Almost as an afterthought he added, "Weasley. Rose's brother."

Whoever the father was, the Weasley's decided, Hermione was almost definitely the mother.

"I think that makes it your turn Scorp." Al called out. An answering groan could be heard from the Hufflepuffs. Several of the students sitting next to the groaning boy recoiled when they saw his face.

"Thanks Al." He sighed, running his hand down his face before standing up. The shocked silence was back as students looked from the Hufflepuff boy to the Slytherin with the same face. This Hufflepuff looked just like Draco Malfoy. He sighed and nodded as though confirming the questions running through people's heads.

"My name's Scorpius. Scorpius Malfoy." It was said so similarly to the way Draco introduced himself to Harry all those years ago, and yet it held none of the same arrogance, the ingrained superiority, Draco's had. It was simply a fact. His first name came first because that was what mattered; who he was, not who his father was.

Scorpius saw many glances down at his chest where his yellow Hufflepuff tie was on display. He glared. "Say something about Hufflepuff. I dare you."

No one took him up on his dare.

"Wait a moment!" Sirius called from where he stood at the doors of the Hall. "Are we just going to ignore the Potter who just said his middle name was Severus?" He laughed a little confused laugh. "As in Severus _Snape_?"

Neither James nor Remus made any movement while Lily smacked him lightly. She was confused as well, however. Why would James, or any relatives of his for that matter for Lily knew he would most likely instil a hatred for the man in any of his kids, willingly name their child after Severus?

"My father seems to have a rather unpopular opinion of Snape." Al shrugged. "Something changed Dad's mind about him. He's never quite told me what that was though."

Although Al's response provided next to no answers, Sirius seemed to move past it.

"And the four of you," Dumbledore addressed, "just who might you be?"

They turned and looked at each other. It was Lily that spoke up.

"Professor? You know us. What is going on?"

"I am afraid the people you appear to be simply cannot be here, so I'm going to need you to tell us who you really are."

"Dumbledore? It's Lily Evans. You know me. And there's no way you've possibly forgotten who they are." She nodded back towards Sirius, James, and Remus.

"Ah, yes, Lily… Evans." Dumbledore paused before her last name. "How could I ever forget?" He fixed his gaze on the three boys. "And I suppose that make you…"

"James Potter." James confirmed glancing over at James Sirius, the boy who also called himself 'James Potter'. "This is Remus Lupin and Sirius Black." He gestured to each respectively.

There was sudden noise at Sirius' name, louder than just whispers but not quite loud enough to make out any specific words. Dumbledore silenced the Hall once again.

"Miss Evans if you could, can you please inform me of the year." The pause on her name was less noticeable this time but still very much present.

"Professor, are you feeling well?"

"Humour me." When she still seemed hesitant he added, "Please."

"1975." Her statement turned into a question when muttering broke out immediately.

Dumbledore looked thoughtful if a bit wary.

"But-" Hugo faltered at the sudden attention his outburst brought. "But that was nearly fifty years ago." He gulped as the stares intensified. "Forty-six if you want to be technical, but nevertheless…"

He could see James Sirius trying to count the years himself but Hugo was too busy trying to understand just what was happening here to find it amusing.

"Is that so, Mr… Weasley was it?" Hugo nodded slowly. "And could you please tell me the year as well?"

"I'm sure we both know we'll have very different answers to that question."

Glances were thrown around the room. James Sirius and Lily Luna shared looks with each other and the other members of their family. Harry turned back to glace at Ron and Hermione and the three of them glanced towards the doors at the people who were supposedly Harry's parents. Friends shared worried looks with each other and Professors stared at Dumbledore, having an idea of where this was going and fearing they were right.

"Then you know how important it is that I know."

"2021."

"As I suspected." Dumbledore sounded much too sure of himself for someone who was just as confused as everyone else a few minutes. He faced the group at the doors again so they knew they were also being referred to. "I'm afraid I must inform you, the year you are currently in is 1996." Slow nods around the room confirmed Dumbledore's date.

The Potter kids looked at each other. Al appeared to be thinking.

"'96? That would make it Dad's what? Fifth year? Sixth?"

It took a beat before Harry realised Al, and most of the Hall, was waiting for him to answer.

"Fifth." He managed. It's weird to think of himself as a parent while he was still a teenager, much less when he had his actual kids standing in front of him asking him a question.

Lily and the three Marauders jumped away from the doors to the Great Hall. It became apparent why when one of the doors began to open. It opened slowly and a conversation could be heard from behind it. A man became visible pushing the door open and, try as they might, no one closest to the door could make out anything else beyond. Just vague, blurry shapes and a very bright light.

"I'll be back soon, I promise. I love you." The man yelled back into where he came. A female voice replied in kind and he closed the door. Though his face was still unknown, there was only one person who kept their hair a vibrant turquoise.

"Teddy!" The man in question jumped and spun around, his hair going stark white from the surprise. His hand when to his chest to even out his breathing as colour trickled back into his hair. "Quick, Teddy, what year is it?" Al asked him.

"What? 2021, but-" He glanced back at the doors he just came from. "I just left Victoire's, how am I at Hogwarts?"

He looked around, eyes finding the Al look-alike at the Gryffindor table, the Scorpius look-alike at Slytherin, and the very much alive Albus Dumbledore. "What's going on?"

"We aren't quite sure of that either, Ted." James Sirius told him. He then spoke to the rest of the Hall. "This is Teddy, by the way. Teddy Lupin." At Teddy's bewildered look he shrugged unapologetically. "If we had to go through awkward introductions then so do you. You do not get a free pass just because you were late."

"Lupin?" Teddy turned to the sandy haired kid who spoke. He had scars across his face and he fiddled with the sleeve of his sweater. He looked vaguely familiar to Teddy, though he could not place where he might have met the boy. "Your last name is Lupin?"

"Yeah." Teddy replied, confused. "Why?"

But Remus seemed to be too deep in thought to respond. Remus wasn't stupid, he knew what that implied, that Teddy was related to him in some way but he never imagined ever getting married let alone having kids. With his condition, he'd never allow the possibility.

"Enough!" Umbridge had finally snapped. Her chest heaved as she breathed deeply. "Now I don't know what game you're trying to play here-"

"We're telling the truth-"

"Silence!" Lily Luna looked pained but did quiet down. "As I said, I don't know what game you think you're playing at but I will not tolerate it. Now, you will all sit down this instant."

The people who had stood up at one of the house tables sat down quickly, Hermione pulling Harry down when he didn't sit straight away. The five at the doors lingered, however. They didn't know where to sit, as it was made very clear this was not their time, so there weren't any friends they could take comfort in. "I said sit!"

Teddy looks between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables before heading towards the yellow table. He quickly made his way towards Scorpius and sat down in the spot left open by frighten students who moved away when they saw Scorpius' face. The young Malfoy was surprised to see Teddy next to him, but did take comfort in the familiar face, if only slightly. The four left at the door slowly made their way to the end of the Gryffindor table and sat down. Umbridge took a deep breath.

"Now," she started her voice dangerously even, "As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted." She picked up a book form where is was resting in front of her seat at the table. It was relatively thin and hardcover. Its spine was red but the rest of the cover was purple. Umbridge gripped the book as if it was a lifeline, her knuckles turning white.

"This is the first book in a series that will tell us about Mr Potter's years at Hogwarts. We will read from the beginning and discover the truth about his life and all the lies he has told. We will not stop until we have read them all and know the truth. Soon you will all know exactly what Mr Potter has been trying to make you believe, and what is truly the case."

It wasn't an uproar, but people started talking again. Most people, while still clear they didn't quite believe Voldemort was back, couldn't believe that Harry constantly lied about many things.

Harry was surprised by the number of people defending him. Looking around, he noticed most of them were members of the D.A. but there were others he wasn't familiar with. He saw the people from the future looked confused and were arguing in defense of Harry. Of course, if they were from the future, they would be aware of Voldemort's return, they would have lived through it. Or hopefully only have heard of it if he had been defeated by the time they were born. Harry figured they would have had to have been born after a defeat of Voldemort. There was no way Harry would have brought kids into a world where he was still out there, especially with Harry having a target on his back.

But Umbridge and Fudge were aware of the kids being from the future, and as such they would surely know about things even the Ministry doesn't, or refuses, to know. Then again, it seemed they dismissed the kids as liars long ago. The Ministry wouldn't trust them anymore than they do Harry.

"I want no more words!" But it wasn't Umbridge who yelled this time. Heads turned to find Cornelius Fudge standing from his guest chair. Students blinked, having forgotten the Minister was here. "Now, I have full faith in Dolores and if she says these books will provide the truth then they _will_ provide the truth. We _will_ be reading these books, and no one will say anything further on the matter. Is that clear?"

Mute nods were received and Fudge looked towards his Undersecretary. She shot him a smile and continued. "I will now begin to read the _truth_ about Mr Potter."

She began to open the book and everyone, students and professors alike, could apparently imagine what listening to Umbridge speak for hours would sound like. Dumbledore cut in before she could get a word out.

"How about, we let someone else read the book?" At Umbridge's affronted look, he thought of a reason that could convince a man who thought he was plotting against him.

The Headmaster turned to the Minister.

"Cornelius, we are complying with the Ministry's rather unethical wish to read these books. The least you can do is have a relatively third party read them."

Cornelius and Dolores shared a look before the Minister sighed and nodded. Umbridge looked pained but did as her Minister said. With pursed lips, she thrusted the book at McGonagall. McGonagall took the book and held it in her hands as if she really didn't want to have this happen. But even still, she opened the book up and found the first page.

The Hall was deadly silent allowing McGonagall's voice to carry easily as she spoke.

 **'Chapter One: The Boy Who Lived.'**

* * *

As this does contain time travel and thus multiple characters with the same name, from this point on, the James and Lily from 1975 (they are in their fifth year by the way, before Snape and Lily had their falling out) will be known simply as James or Lily, but the James and Lily from 2021 (that makes Al 15) will be referred to as James Sirius and Lily Luna. It might get confusing at times and I apologise in advance for that but it's what I have to do to make this work. Sorry.

Also, this will have inconsistent updates, but I promise I will update.

Also also, Scorpius is a Hufflepuff here. Fight me, okay? I started this before the Cursed Child put him in Slytherin and it is a personal headcanon of mine that Scorpius Malfoy is a Hufflepuff cause that's awesome. But don't worry, his being a Hufflepuff will have approximately zero effect on the way this story plays out except maybe a few shrewd comments made by some of the meaner students.

Also also also, as I basically refuse to acknowledge the Cursed Child as canon, I am taking liberty with how the Next Gen looks and acts.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2:** The Boy Who'd Rather Not Have His Life Read Out

* * *

 **I don't own anything even vaguely resembling anything Harry Potter related.**

 **This is a reading the books fanfic with multiple Harry Potter generations included: Marauders Era, Book Era, and Next Gen. So, certain characters share the same name in canon, and need to be less confusing here. So James Potter is known as James, while James Sirius Potter is known as James Sirius. The Lily's are the same, Lily Evans known as Lily and Lily Luna Potter is known as Lily Luna.**

 **Anything in bold is the books, anything not is happening in real time (March-ish of 1996).**

* * *

The Hall was deadly silent allowing McGonagall's voice to carry easily as she spoke.

 **'Chapter One: The Boy Who Lived.**

 **'Mr and Mrs Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.'**

There was a murmur of confusion across the Hall at the name Dursley. Wasn't this book supposed to be about Harry? Harry immediately stiffened. He thought this was supposed to start at Hogwarts, why were the Dursleys being mentioned? He did _not_ want people to know about the Dursleys.

"Dursley?" Umbridge asks. "Dursley? Who is Dursley? Potter?"

Harry made sure his voice was even and emotionless. "My aunt and uncle. They're the people I live with."

The people from the past were confused. Why would Harry not be living with James? James was Harry's father, right?

 **'They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense.**

 **'Mr Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large moustache. Mrs Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbours.'**

Friends looked at each other. How pleasant these Dursley's seem.

 **'The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere.**

 **'The Dursleys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it. They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potters.'**

Confusion flitted about the Hall once again: What was there to fear about the Potters? Was this moment before Voldemort's fall? Did they fear persecution from him and his Death Eaters for knowing the Potters?

 **'Mrs Potter was Mrs Dursley's sister, but they hadn't met for several years; in fact, Mrs Dursley pretended she didn't have a sister, because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband were as unDursleyish as it was possible to be.'**

Several of the professors were outraged. James Potter, while a bit obnoxious and a trouble maker in his youth, was most certainly not good-for-nothing! And what kind of a sister would avoid the other? Especially one as kind and lively as Lily? These Dursleys didn't sound like the kind of people you would want to be similar to anyway. How could Harry live with them if they despised his parents?

 **'The Dursleys shuddered to think what the neighbours would say if the Potters arrived in the street. The Dursleys knew that the Potters had a small son, too, but they had never even seen him. This boy was another good reason for keeping the Potters away; they didn't want Dudley mixing with a child like that.** '

McGonagall began to worry, not for the first time, that they had made a terrible mistake in leaving Harry with these people.

 **'When Mr and Mrs Dursley woke up on the dull, grey Tuesday our story starts, there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country. Mr Dursley hummed as he picked out his most boring tie for work and Mrs Dursley gossiped away happily as she wrestled a screaming Dudley into his high chair. None of them noticed a large tawny owl flutter past the window. At half past eight, Mr Dursley picked up his briefcase, pecked Mrs Dursley on the cheek and tried to kiss Dudley goodbye but missed, because Dudley was now having a tantrum and throwing his cereal at the walls. "Little tyke," chortled Mr Dursley as he left the house. He got into his car and backed out of number four's drive.** '

Professors were fuming. You do not _encourage_ that kind of behaviour.

 **'It was on the corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of something peculiar – a cat reading a map. For a second, Mr Dursley didn't realise what he had seen – then he jerked his head around to look again. There was a tabby cat standing on the corner of Privet Drive, but there wasn't a map in sight. What could he have been thinking of? It must have been a trick of the light.'**

"Bet you that was McGonagall." Sirius muttered to James and Remus who snorted slightly in agreement.

 **'Mr Dursley blinked and stared at the cat. It stared back. As Mr Dursley drove around the corner and up the road, he watched the cat in his mirror. It was now reading the sign that said Privet Drive – no, looking at the sign; cats couldn't read maps or signs. Mr Dursley gave himself a little shake and put the cat out of his mind. As he drove towards town he thought of nothing except a large order of drills he was hoping to get that day.**

Around the Hall, people were confused. These Dursley's sound so dreadful. Why were they hearing about this? Where was Harry?

 **'But on the edge of town, drills were driven out of his mind by something else. As he sat in the usual morning traffic jam, he couldn't help noticing that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about. People in cloaks. Mr Dursley couldn't bear people who dressed in funny clothes – the get-ups you saw on young people! He supposed this was some stupid new fashion. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and his eyes fell on a huddle of these weirdos standing quite close by. They were whispering excitedly together. Mr Dursley was enraged to see that a couple of them weren't young at all; why, that man had to be older than he was, and wearing an emerald-green cloak!'**

 _Wizards?_ people thought. Why were they standing about in front of muggles so blatantly?

But many students recalled stories their parents told them about the day Voldemort fell. How witches and wizards we so elated the were practically celebrating in the streets, not caring about the Statute of Secrecy in their joy. The day they were reading about could be that same day. It would explain what Harry had to do with it, and why they were hearing about these horrible people, if they were the people he went to live with.

' **The nerve of him! But then it struck Mr Dursley that this was probably some silly stunt – these people were obviously collecting for something... yes, that would be it. The traffic moved on, and a few minutes later, Mr Dursley arrived in the Grunnings car park, his mind back on drills.**

 **'Mr Dursley always sat with his back to the window in his office on the ninth floor. If he hadn't, he might have found it harder to concentrate on drills that morning. He didn't see the owls swooping past in broad daylight, though people down in the street did; they pointed and gazed open-mouthed as owl after owl sped overhead. Most of them had never seen an owl even at night- time.'**

Purebloods, and a few halfboolds, from all corners of the room were baffled. How could someone have never seen an owl before? Maybe muggles used another kind of bird to deliver their mail? A few people who knew the muggle world briefly explained the idea of a mailman, but most just promised to explain later and kept listening.

 **'Mr Dursley, however, had a perfectly normal, owl-free morning. He yelled at five different people. He made several important telephone calls and shouted a bit more. He was in a very good mood until lunch-time, when he thought he'd stretch his legs and walk across the road to buy himself a bun from the baker's opposite.**

 **'He'd forgotten all about the people in cloaks until he passed a group of them next to the baker's. He eyed them angrily as he passed. He didn't know why, but they made him uneasy. This lot were whispering excitedly, too, and he couldn't see a single collecting tin. It was on his way back past them, clutching a large doughnut in a bag, that he caught a few words of what they were saying.**

 **'"The Potters, that's right, that's what I heard –"**

 **'"– yes, their son, Harry –"**

 **'Mr Dursley stopped dead. Fear flooded him. He looked back at** **the whisperers as if he wanted to say something to them, but thought better of it.**

 **'He dashed back across the road, hurried up to his office, snapped at his secretary not to disturb him, seized his telephone and had almost finished dialling his home number when he changed his mind. He put the receiver back down and stroked his moustache, thinking ... no, he was being stupid. Potter wasn't such an unusual name.'**

Many purebloods were confused. There was only one Potter family. Potter was a very unique name, given only to the one family. This Dursley had to be incompetent if he thought there could be another. One or two people who noticed this confusion attempted to explain that it was common in the muggle world for more than one family to share the same name and not be related, but this only seemed to leave them dumbfounded or confuse them even more so they gave up.

 **'He was sure there were lots of people called Potter who had a son called Harry. Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure his nephew was called Harry. He'd never even seen the boy. It might have been Harvey. Or Harold.'**

"He didn't even know your name?" Hermione hissed to Harry horrified. Harry just shrugged.

"They didn't get on with my parents." Was his simple explanation. He was fairly certain Uncle Vernon still didn't truly know his name, but he wasn't about to tell Hermione that.

 **'There was no point in worrying Mrs Dursley, she always got so upset at any mention of her sister. He didn't blame her – if he'd had a sister like that... but all the same, those people in cloaks...**

 **'He found it a lot harder to concentrate on drills that afternoon, and when he left the building at five o'clock, he was still so worried that he walked straight into someone just outside the door.**

 **'"Sorry," he grunted, as the tiny old man stumbled and almost fell. It was a few seconds before Mr Dursley realised that the man was wearing a violet cloak. He didn't seem at all upset at being almost knocked to the ground. On the contrary, his face split into a wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice that made passers-by stare, "Don't be sorry, my dear sir, for nothing could upset me today! Rejoice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last! Even Muggles like yourself should be celebrating, this happy, happy day!"'**

Across the Hall, people nodded at the confirmation of the day.

"He's dead?" Sirius whispered. "He's really dead?"

Students turned his way and the few who could see him noticed the tears gathering in his eyes and whispered about it to their neighbours. James, Lily, and Remus sat still, momentarily too shocked to move. But then they started cheering. It was reserved to just the three of them in the corner of the Hall, but everyone could hear them clearly.

Sirius wasn't cheering though, which everyone but his friends noticed. He was too busy trying to process this information and what it would end up meaning for them and the rest of the Wizarding World. Things continued on at least, judging by the full population of students at Hogwarts. And he started thinking about his friends who have been living in fear because they were not pureblood. Hunted down purely for being born. He thought about his brother Regulus, still living in the terrible environment that was Grimmauld Place. About Regulus suffocating under that toxic, bigoted, _'toujour pur'_ influence. Regulus who would most likely be forced to bear a Dark Mark, forced into Voldemort's psychopathic ranks.

And Sirius started to cry. He cried for his friends, for his brother, for the students whose parents have already pulled them out in fear, for Muggles who had no idea what was coming for them, for the kids whose parents forced them into the Death Eaters, for all those who have already died, and for all those who will die without seeing the end of the war. Though he was sad about all the terrible things Voldemort has brought upon the world, Sirius cried in happiness, glad that he knew one day this would all be over.

But the people in the Hall took his crying as tears of sadness. Look at him, they thought. He isn't even trying to hide his dismay. He was crying for the loss of his Master while the people he betrayed were sitting right next to him. But no one wanted to call him out on it. Didn't want to dampen the mood just yet. Let the Potters and the young Professor Lupin have their happy moment; Sirius' betrayal will be revealed soon enough.

 **'And the old man hugged Mr Dursley around the middle and walked off.**

 **'Mr Dursley stood rooted to the spot. He had been hugged by a complete stranger. He also thought he had been called a Muggle, whatever that was. He was rattled. He hurried to his car and set off for home, hoping he was imagining things, which he had never hoped before, because he didn't approve of imagination.'**

 **'As he pulled into the driveway of number four, the first thing he saw – and it didn't improve his mood – was the tabby cat he'd spotted that morning. It was now sitting on his garden wall. He was sure it was the same one; it had the same markings around its eyes.**

 **'"Shoo!" said Mr Dursley loudly. The cat didn't move. It just gave him a stern look.**

"Definitely McGonagall." James whispered to his friends, a large grin etched on his face.

 **'Was this normal cat behaviour, Mr Dursley wondered. Trying to pull himself together, he let himself into the house. He was still determined not to mention anything to his wife.**

 **'Mrs Dursley had had a nice, normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs Next Door's problems with her daughter and how Dudley had learnt a new word ('Shan't!').**

People shook their heads in disgust.

 **'Mr Dursley tried to act normally. When Dudley had been put to bed, he went into the living-room in time to catch the last report on the evening news:**

 **'"And finally, bird-watchers everywhere have reported that the nation's owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings of these birds flying in every direction since sunrise. Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern." The news reader allowed himself a grin. "Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGuffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?"**

 **'"Well, Ted," said the weatherman, "I don't know about that, but it's not only the owls that have been acting oddly today. Viewers as far apart as Kent, Yorkshire and Dundee have been phoning in to tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, they've had a downpour of shooting stars! Perhaps people have been celebrating Bonfire Night early – it's not until next week, folks! But I can promise a wet night tonight."**

 **'Mr Dursley sat frozen in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain? Owls flying by daylight? Mysterious people in cloaks all over place? And a whisper, a whisper about the Potters…**

 **'Mrs Dursley came into the living-room carrying two cups of tea. It was no good. He'd have to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously. "Er – Petunia, dear –'**

"No." Lily whispered. It couldn't be. The thought had been floating around her head for a while but she didn't think it could possibly be true.

Remus, who sat next to her, looked over in confusion, but she didn't give an explanation.

 **'"you haven't heard from your sister lately, have you?"**

 **'As he had expected, Mrs Dursley looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn't have a sister.'**

Lily sighed and shook her head sadly. Yes, that was her sister. Then the full connection was made and she groaned loudly.

"Wait." McGonagall paused her reading and looked up at Lily, most of the Hall following. "Please don't tell me I _actually_ ended up marrying _him_."

"Wait, hold on really?" James asked, excited. They all looked up towards McGonagall, who confirmed with a nod.

"I am afraid so Ms Evans."

Lily groaned again and dropped her head down on the table, James grabbed Sirius' arm and shook it.

"You hear that, Pads? She said yes! Or she will, I guess. But she goes out with me! She marries me! We have a kid!"

Many people looked at this exchange with amusement, but Harry was curious. Sirius had said Lily never hated his father, but this seemed pretty close. Harry wondered what happened to change her opinion of him.

James continued his excitement in silence as McGonagall began reading again.

 **'"No." she said sharply. "Why?"**

 **'"Funny stuff on the news," Mr Dursley muttered. "Owls… shooting stars… and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today…"**

 ** _'"So?"_** **snapped Mrs Dursley.**

 **'"Well, I just thought… maybe… it was something to do with… you know…** ** _her lot."_**

 **'Mrs Dursley sipped her tea through pursed lips. Mr Dursley wondered whether he dared tell her he'd heard the name 'Potter'. He decided he didn't dare. Instead he said, as casually as he could, "Their son – he'd be about Dudley's age now, wouldn't he?"**

 **'"I suppose so," said Mrs Dursley stiffly.**

 **'"What's his name again? Howard, isn't it?"**

 **'"Harry. Nasty, common name, if you ask me."**

 **'"Oh, yes," said Mr Dursley, his heart sinking horribly. "Yes, I quite agree."**

 **'He didn't say another word on the subject as they went upstairs to bed. While Mrs Dursley was in the bathroom, Mr Dursley crept to the bedroom and peered down into the front garden. The cat was still there. It was staring down Privet Drive as though waiting for something.**

 **'Was he imagining things? Could all of this have anything to do with the Potters? If it did… if it got out that they were related to a pair of – well, he didn't think he could bear it.**

 **'The Dursleys got into bed. Mrs Dursley fell asleep quickly but Mr Dursley lay awake, turning it all over in his mind. His last comforting thought before he fell asleep was that even if the Potters** ** _were_** **involved, there was no reason for them to come near him and Mrs Dursley. The Potters knew very well what he and Petunia thought about them and their kind… He couldn't see how he and Petunia could get mixed up in anything that might be going on. He yawned and turned over. It couldn't affect** ** _them…_**

 **'How very wrong he was.'**

Harry snorted. How much he wished he wasn't.

 **'Mr Dursley might have been drifting into an uneasy sleep, but the cat on the wall outside was showing no signs of sleepiness. It was sitting as still as a statue, its eyes fixed unblinkingly on the far corner of Privet Drive. It didn't so much as quiver when a car door slammed in the next street, nor when two owls swooped overhead. In fact, it was nearly midnight before the cat moved at all.**

 **'A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, appearing so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the ground. The cat's tail twitched and its eyes narrowed.**

 **'Nothing like this man had ever been seen in Privet Drive. He was tall, thin and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak which swept the ground and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man's name was Albus Dumbledore.**

 **'Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to realise that he had just arrived in a street where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome. He was busy rummaging in his cloak, looking for something. But he did seem to realise he was being watched, because he looked up suddenly at the cat, which was still staring at him from the other end of the street. For some reason, the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him. He chuckled and muttered, "I should have known."**

 **'He had found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter. He flicked it open, held it up in the air and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a little pop. He clicked it again – the next lamp flickered into darkness.'**

Awe flittered throughout the Hall. They had seen a lot of impressive magic in their schooling, but this was a different kind of interesting. A simple spell could darken the street all at once, but the fact this little device snuffed out the lights one at a time was beyond cool.

Rose looked around at the awed faces and shared a look with her brother. Little do they know that she had played with a similar device once when she snuck into her father's room. Maybe the devises become more popular and accessible in the future.

 **'Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer,'**

Dumbledore grimaced. He had forgotten about his working name for the device. He had changed the name to a 'Deluminator' and was very pleased with how much better it sounded.

 **'until the only lights left in the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him. If anyone looked out of their window, even beady-eyed Mrs Dursley, they wouldn't be able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement. Dumbledore slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street towards number four, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat. He didn't look at it, but after a moment he spoke to it.**

 **'"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."**

 **'He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone. Instead he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled.'**

The woman in question huffed as she read. She had not.

 **'"How did you know it was me?" she asked.**

 **'"My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."**

 **'"You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day," said Professor McGonagall.**

 **'"All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here."**

 **'Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily.**

 **'"Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right," she said impatiently. "You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no – even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news." She jerked her head back at the Dursleys' dark living-room window. "I heard it. Flocks of owls ... shooting stars ... Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent – I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense."**

 **'"You can't blame them," said Dumbledore gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."**

"Eleven years." James whispered breathlessly. He quickly did the math. If Voldemort has been around for five years so far, it meant they still had six more years until he would be defeated. He closed his eyes and conveyed his conclusion to his friends. They nodded, resigned to living out this war. 1981. That was the year they had to wait until. That was the year this would all be over. They smiled, knowing that most of these kids around them would be born in a world without Voldemort.

 **'"I know that," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumours."**

 **'She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to tell her something, but he didn't, so she went on. "A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really has gone, Dumbledore?"**

 **'"It certainly seems so," said Dumbledore. "We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?"**

 **'"A what?"**

 **'"A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of."**

 **'"No, thank you," said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for lemon drops.'**

"And it most certainly was not, Albus." McGonagall told Dumbledore, as if wanting to prolong the inevitable. Lily, James, and Remus were happy right now, Sirius too if you looked closely. She didn't want to have to tear the good mood away from them.

 **'"As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone –"**

 **'"My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You- Know-Who' nonsense – for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort." Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two lemon drops, seemed not to notice. "It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who.' I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name."**

 **'"I know you haven't," said Professor McGonagall, sounding half exasperated, half admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know- oh, all right, Voldemort, was frightened of."**

 **'"You flatter me," said Dumbledore calmly. "Voldemort had powers I will never have."**

 **'"Only because you're too – well – noble to use them."**

 **'"It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs."**

Several students shuddered not wanting to think about that.

 **'Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said, "The owls are nothing next to the rumours that are flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"**

 **'It seemed that Professor McGonagall had reached the point she was most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting on a cold, hard wall all day, for neither as a cat nor as a woman had she fixed Dumbledore with such a piercing stare as she did now. It was plain that whatever "everyone" was saying, she was not going to believe it until Dumbledore told her it was true. Dumbledore, however, was choosing another lemon drop and did not answer.**

 **'"What they're saying," she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumour is that Lily and James Potter are - are - that they're - dead."'**

"What?" Remus gasped. James and Lily paled so considerably, one might have thought they had died right then. Sirius grabbed James' arm tightly, as if trying to prove he is still there right now.

Sirius started muttering something and it took a keen ear to pick up on the quiet 'no's on repeat. It seemed to be the only word he knew at the moment, just repeating it as he gripped James' arm. The other three students just sat in silence. Tears started dripping down Lily's face without her noticing and Remus had his hand pressed to his mouth in shock. No sound came except for the looping 'no's from Sirius.

People in Hall were a bit disturbed by Sirius' reaction. It didn't quite fit with the image of the man laughing at the ruined Potter House that day in Godric's Hollow. But this Sirius, they figured, wasn't as deep into Voldemort's ranks yet. He still cried when his Master died but never figured that his friends would end up being one of his victims. Maybe at this point in his life, Sirius figured he could still get his friends to join him as Death Eaters, or at least they could be spared. Sirius wasn't yet willing to sacrifice everything for Voldemort and so he was genuinely sad his friends were dead. People wondered how long that would last. How long would it take until Sirius didn't care who got hurt as Voldemort gained power? How long would James actually have a friend who cared about him?

"I'm sorry." Dumbledore told James and Lily but none of them seemed to really be listening.

 **'Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped.**

 **'"Lily and James... I can't believe it... I didn't want to believe it... Oh, Albus..."**

 **'Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "I know... I know..." he said heavily.**

 **'Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potter's son, Harry. But - he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke - and that's why he's gone."'**

People turned to look at Harry curiously, as if this was the first time they've heard this story. The students from the past stared at Harry in awe and confusion.

"You-what?" Sirius gasped at Harry. People throughout the Hall were worried he was going to blow up here. He knew his Master was dead, but if he knew that Harry was the reason, there was no telling what he would do. He could attempt to kill Harry here, even if it wouldn't affect what happened in the past. He could just go mad and attempt to hurt anyone he could. Fear and apprehension flitted across their faces as the silently gripped their wands, just in case.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione noticed these emotions on multiple faces around the Hall and worried for Sirius. He didn't know that most people thought he was the reason the Potters were killed, and the people in the Hall didn't know that he wasn't. If there was one good thing to come out of these books, they reasoned, at least Sirius will be proven innocent.

 **'Dumbledore nodded glumly.**

 **'"It's – it's true?" faltered Professor McGonagall. "After all he's done... all the people he's killed... he couldn't kill a little boy? It's just astounding... of all the things to stop him... but how in the name of heaven did Harry survive?"**

 **'"We can only guess," said Dumbledore. "We may never know."'**

The Golden Trio doubted that. Dumbledore seemed to know many things, and he liked to keep them to himself. Snape looked at Dumbledore curiously, wondering if he had truly not known and then came to a conclusion later, or was outright lying to Minerva, for he was certain Dumbledore at least had an idea.

 **'Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge. It must have made sense to Dumbledore, though, because he put it back in his pocket and said, "Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"**

 **'"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?"**

 **'"I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now."**

"No." James said causing people to look at him. "No, no, that's not true. What about my parents? Or Lily's? Or Sirius or Remus or even Peter, at least? Or hell, even Snape, he and Lily are friends, right? Surely someone other than these horrid people could take care of my son?"

McGonagall and Dumbledore looked at each other. They didn't want to completely destroy James' little sense of peace right now, so they opted for a half-truth.

"I'm afraid none of them could take care of Harry at that moment, Mr Potter." Dumbledore explained as gently and vaguely as he could. James heard the sad undertone of death in the Headmaster's statement but he really didn't want to think about it too much so he let it go.

 **'"You don't mean – you can't mean the people who live here?" cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four. "Dumbledore – you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son - I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter come and live here!"**

 **'"It's the best place for him," said Dumbledore firmly. "His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter."'**

"A letter? I never got a letter." Harry said.

 **'"A letter?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand him! He'll be famous - a legend - I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter day in the future –'**

Ron laughed as Harry was horrified at the very thought.

 **'"There will be books written about Harry –'**

People smirked at the irony, though they highly doubted this is what McGonagall had in mind.

 **'"Every child in our world will know his name!"**

 **'"Exactly," said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he won't even remember!'**

Harry closed his eyes. He remembered far too much.

 **'Can't you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?"'**

Harry understood the point Dumbledore was making and he had to admit it made sense, who knows how he would have turned out if he had been privy to the legend the Wizarding World had made him out to be. Harry just wished he didn't have to had lived with the Dursleys for it to happen.

 **'Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed, and then said, "Yes - yes, you're right, of course. But how is the boy getting here, Dumbledore?" She eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding Harry underneath it.**

 **'"Hagrid's bringing him."**

 **'"You think it - wise - to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"**

 **'"I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore.**

The Golden Trio nodded. So would they.

 **'"I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," said Professor McGonagall grudgingly, "but you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to - what was that?"**

 **'A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky - and a huge motorcycle fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them.**

 **'If the motorcycle was huge, it was nothing to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed, and so wild - long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of trash can lids, and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins. In his vast, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of blankets.**

 **'"Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?"**

 **'"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorcycle as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me."'**

"That's mine?" Sirius asked, giving a small watery smile, still clutching James' arm. "Cool."

 **'"I've got him, sir."**

 **'"No problems, were there?"**

 **'"No, sir - house was almost destroyed, but I got him out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. He fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol."**

 **'Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby boy, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-black hair over his forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning.'**

Harry rubbed his scar absentmindedly and a few people near him took almost involuntary glances at it.

 **'"Is that where-?" whispered Professor McGonagall.**

 **'"Yes," said Dumbledore. "He'll have that scar forever."**

 **'"Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?"**

 **'"Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground. Well - give him here, Hagrid – we'd better get this over with."**

 **'Dumbledore took Harry in his arms and turned toward the Dursleys' house.**

 **'"Could I - could I say good-bye to him, sir?" asked Hagrid. He bent his great, shaggy head over Harry and gave him what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss. Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog.**

 **'"Shhh!" hissed Professor McGonagall, "you'll wake the Muggles!"**

 **'"S-s-sorry," sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large, spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. "But I c-c-can't stand it - Lily an' James dead – an' poor little Harry off ter live with Muggles-"**

 **'"Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found," Professor McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm as Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door. He laid Harry gently on the doorstep, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Harry's blankets, and then came back to the other two. For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle; Hagrid's shoulders shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously, and the twinkling light that usually shone from Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out.**

No one spoke, the mood too sombre. The future generation were nearly crying, they had never been told the story in much detail and this was just too much.

 **'"Well," said Dumbledore finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations."**

 **'"Yeah," said Hagrid in a very muffled voice, "I'll be takin' Sirius his bike back. G'night, Professor McGonagall - Professor Dumbledore, sir."**

 **'Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night.**

 **'"I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply.**

 **'Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once, and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four.**

 **'"Good luck, Harry," he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone.**

 **'A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs Dursley's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that he would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Dudley...'**

Friends of Harry looked at each other. That didn't sound too good.

 **'He couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry Potter - the boy who lived!"'**

McGonagall put the book down and people understood that was the end of the chapter. Friends turned to each other instantly and began to discuss what they just heard. People who promised to explain things later started to, even if the other person wasn't really listening.

People around Harry communicated quietly as Harry just sat in silence. This was turning out just as horribly as he had thought and they only read they first chapter so far. Harry hoped the next thing they read would be his journey to Hogwarts, but he didn't think he would be that lucky, he never was.

Fudge whispered angrily to Dolores about this book doing nothing but gaining Potter a fan-base. She assured him that she had good authority that these books would show the absolute truth about Potter.

The future kids wondered why exactly they were here. They grew up in a world where Voldemort had come back and attempted a takeover for the second time, and a world where Harry defeated him once again. They knew the stories and the outcomes, what exactly are they going to learn reading about things they already knew.

The past kids sat in silence, listening to the chatter of the Hall, and just trying to deal with the future events they've been presented with. James, although he didn't really want to, started thinking about what Dumbledore said, that no one he listed was able to take care of Harry. He worried about his parents and Lily's the most. His own parents were fairly old so it wasn't too far out of the realm of possibilities that they died but he knew Lily's were fairly young. She didn't get along with her sister much, that much was obvious, but he'd heard her say how much she cared about her parents. He hoped neither pair fell victim to Voldemort since it seemed he would be targeting himself and Lily in a few years. He was worried about his friends too, he knew they would go down fighting if need be, but he hoped that scenario never arrived. He's gathered that the dreary looking man at the end of the professor table was Snivellus himself, though who would allow that man to be a professor was beyond him, so he wasn't worried about him at all. Though James was rather glad that Snape did not raise his son, he knew that Lily was his friend and would trust him to take care of her child in the event she couldn't. So, what happened that changed that? What happened to everyone else that that these Dursleys as the only option?

"Perhaps we could take a break to digest all that we've read-" McGonagall tried.

"Nonsense!" Umbridge interrupted. "We've hardly even begun! And besides, we've not learned anything new, all we've heard is public knowledge. We all know what happened the night You-Know-Who was defeated, though how is still up for debate." She added glaring at Harry as if he had an ulterior motive to overthrow the ministry as a baby. Lily Luna turned to James Sirius. 'You-Know-Who?' she mouthed. James Sirius shrugged, he didn't know why she said that either.

"We will continue reading this instant, and hope that it is something that we don't already know." Umbridge continued.

McGonagall looked pained and shot Harry an apologetic look. Harry nodded in acceptance and McGonagall picked up the book again.

She took a deep breath to calm herself and started once more.

 **'Chapter Two: The Vanishing Glass.'**

* * *

Fun fact: the 1st of November 1981 (the day the chapter takes place) was actually a Sunday.

If something doesn't make sense to you, please let me know and I can attempt to explain/fix it.

Thanks.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3:** The Vanishing Doubt that the Dursley's are Horrible People

* * *

 **I don't own anything Harry Potter related.**

* * *

 **Also, I apologise for how bad this chapter titles will become, but it's only going to get worse.**

* * *

 **'Chapter Two: The Vanishing Glass.'**

Before she started, McGonagall attempted to convince herself that she was wrong, that the Dursley's would treat Harry kindly as soon as they saw him, they would recognise him as their blood and treat him well, they would understand the problem and take care of the boy who just lost his parents.

It wasn't working.

 **'Nearly ten years had passed since the Dursleys had woken up to find their nephew on the front step, but Privet Drive had hardly changed at all. The sun rose on the same tidy front gardens and lit up the brass number four on the Dursleys' front door; it crept into their living room, which was almost exactly the same as it had been on the night when Mr. Dursley had seen that fateful news report about the owls. Only the photographs on the mantelpiece really showed how much time had passed. Ten years ago, there had been lots of pictures of what looked like a large pink beach ball wearing different-coloured bonnets - but Dudley Dursley was no longer a baby, and now the photographs showed a large blond boy riding his first bicycle, on a carousel at the fair, playing a computer game with his father, being hugged and kissed by his mother. The room held no sign at all that another boy lived in the house, too.'**

Harry closed his eyes. He could feel others looking at him, but he didn't want to see their expressions. He had really hoped that this book would skip over these parts, just jump straight to Hogwarts. Maybe as far back as learning he was a wizard, but surely no earlier than that. Why were his days at the Dursley's of any importance? Wasn't his Hogwarts life all that Umbridge cared about? But Harry understood. This horrible woman wanted Harry's life to be as miserable as possible, and Harry didn't know anything more miserable than Number 4. It was bad enough that he had to go back to that wretched place every summer, now he was forced to relive it at Hogwarts, as if his school life wasn't bad enough right now.

 **'Yet Harry Potter was still there, asleep at the moment, but not for long. His Aunt Petunia was awake and it was her shrill voice that made the first noise of the day.**

 **'"Up! Get up! Now!"**

 **'Harry woke with a start. His aunt rapped on the door again.**

 **'"Up!" she screeched.'**

People were disgusted. What a horrible woman.

 **'Harry heard her walking toward the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan being put on the stove.'**

"Good ears, your room was upstairs, wasn't it?" Ron praised. "Most days after just waking up, I could only barely hear my mum talking to me outside my door."

Harry didn't speak, knowing his cupboard would be mentioned at any moment and already hating the responses he would get for it.

 **'He rolled onto his back and tried to remember the dream he had been having. It had been a good one. There had been a flying motorcycle in it. He had a funny feeling he'd had the same dream before.**

 **'His aunt was back outside the door.**

 **'"Are you up yet?" she demanded.**

 **'"Nearly," said Harry.**

 **'"Well, get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon. And don't you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Duddy's birthday."'**

Hermione blinked. "She made you, and eleven-year-old, look after the food on a hot stove cooking in hot grease?"

Harry merely shrugged and his friends looked at each other worried. They know Harry didn't want his life read out, but his reactions this early into the story didn't bode well at all.

 **'Harry groaned.**

 **'"What did you say?" his aunt snapped through the door.**

 **'"Nothing, nothing..."**

 **'Dudley's birthday - how could he have forgotten? Harry got slowly out of bed and started looking for socks. He found a pair under his bed and, after pulling a spider off one of them, put them on. Harry was used to spiders, because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them, and that-'**

McGonagall stopped reading abruptly. Harry buried his head in his arms on the table; he could guess what the end of that sentence said.

"Mr Potter?" McGonagall asked, shocked.

She looked up to see Harry trying to melt into the table.

"Mr Potter," she tried again, her voice wavering, "please do not tell me this is true."

Harry continued to hide in his arms, but now multiple students looked over at him. Confused glances were thrown around the room. Harry's life with these Dursley's, while the horrible people they were, couldn't be so bad that McGonagall was this stunned.

Could it?

McGonagall seemed to realise she would not be getting an answer out of Harry, so she took a deep breath and started again, her voice low and sad.

 **'-Because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them, and that was where he slept.'**

For a second, it was silent. One second of absolutely no sound. The echo of the last sentence hung in the air and no one dared even breathe to disturb the silence.

Then, all at once, noise started up again.

Lily, down at the end of the Gryffindor table, whispered a harsh, "What?" as she clenched her fists. She knew her sister wasn't fond of her or anything magical, but keeping her own nephew in a _cupboard under the stairs?_ How could anyone possibly be that cruel?

James breathed heavily with anger as both Sirius and Remus growled lowly beside him. How dare anyone do that to a child. Let alone their own flesh and blood! Something would have to be done about this. He and Lily won't die this time around! Or there will be specific instructions upon their death to never let these people even _see_ his son, and certainly not raise him, under any circumstances! Something! This will not be allowed.

McGonagall was fighting tears as she whispered harshly to Dumbledore, "I told you they were no good, I told you." Dumbledore didn't respond, but sat there with his eyes closed, as if he didn't truly think the Dursley's would possibly treat Harry so poorly.

James Sirius sat stunned, shaking his head as his sister asked if he had known any of that. He started thinking about every complaint he's made to his father, every time he yelled that a punishment was unfair, or whining about chores, or any other insignificant thing he made the worst out of. And his father never said anything, never told him how much worse James Sirius could have it, how much worse his father had it growing up. He wished his dad was here, his actual dad who was older than him and actually knew who James Sirius was. He wanted to give him a hug and tell him how sorry he was, about everything James Sirius had ever done as well as everything his dad had gone through.

Hermione was stuttering, unable to form a full sentence in her anger, but Ron easily found his voice.

"But we broke you out of a room!" Ron exclaimed. "An actual bedroom! With a bed! And a desk, and shelves, and… bars. On the window. We…" He trailed off, realising the implications of what he said. "We… broke you out. We _broke you out!_ There were bars on your window! Fred and George had to pick the lock on the door! There was a flap on your door! All your stuff was locked away! You-!" Ron recalled all the things he noticed in Harry's room that night but hadn't put together. He deflated as the situation Harry was in just truly hit him. "You were basically a prisoner. In your own house. Your own family did that. What kind of family does that? Why did they do that to you?" His voice was quiet, but all chatter had stopped at his outburst, so it was heard throughout the Hall. Harry sighed and raised his head, resting his chin on his forearms, though he didn't look anyone in the eye.

"They only locked me in once they realised I wasn't allowed to do magic outside of school. Until that point they worried I'd turn them into something if they did anything to me."

"Harry," Hermione started gently, but with a tinge of anger at the Dursley's, their conversation still being heard by the entire Hall. "People only fear repercussions if they know they've done something wrong. What have they done to you?"

Harry only raised his eyes to meet Hermione's and her heart broke as she saw the pain in them. But there was also defiance. Harry clenched his jaw and kept his face blank. He had years of practice showing no reaction.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"But Harry-"

"'Mione, don't."

It was Ginny who cut her off with a hand on her arm. She didn't quite understand what someone would have to go through to cause the kind of look Harry had, but she knew when someone wasn't going to keep talking and would rather you stop asking.

Ginny turned to McGonagall who looked equal parts sad and furious. "Can you please continue, Professor?"

Harry shot a grateful look towards Ginny and kept his chin on his arms, his eyes returning down to stare blankly at the middle of the table.

McGonagall quickly composed herself and nodded. "Yes. Yes, of course." But she first turned to the seats occupied by the Minister and his Undersecretary. "I hope you're happy with yourselves." She spat at them.

Fudge, for his part, did look shameful. Umbridge did not show any sign she had even heard McGonagall. She was conflicted however. She was unreasonably happy at Potter's apparent misfortune growing up, but she hated that it seemed to grant the boy some sympathy among the student, even the ones who had shown a great dislike of him for years. She sat stonily as she listened to Minerva read once more.

 **'When he was dressed he went down the hall into the kitchen. The table was almost hidden beneath all Dudley's birthday presents. It looked as though Dudley had gotten the new computer he wanted, not to mention the second television and the racing bike. Exactly why Dudley wanted a racing bike was a mystery to Harry, as Dudley was very fat and hated exercise - unless of course it involved punching somebody. Dudley's favourite punching bag was Harry, but he couldn't often catch him.'**

Nothing they were hearing were making anyone hate these Dursley's any less.

 **'Harry didn't look it, but he was very fast.**

 **'Perhaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard, but Harry had always been small and skinny for his age. He looked even smaller and skinnier than he really was because all he had to wear were old clothes of Dudley's, and Dudley was about four times bigger than he was. Harry had a thin face, knobbly knees, black hair, and bright green eyes.'**

James and Lily looked at each other, cataloguing what parts Harry inherited from each other. Lily was a bit upset when she realised the only thing her son would inherit from her would be her eyes, but James was excited for that exact reason. He loved Lily's eyes and was overjoyed to think that his son would have those as well.

 **'He wore round glasses held together with a lot of Scotch tape because of all the times Dudley had punched him on the nose. The only thing Harry liked about his own appearance was a very thin scar on his forehead that was shaped like a bolt of lightning.'**

"You liked it?" Ginny asked. For as long as she'd known Harry, he as always held this sort of resentment towards his scar, making sure his bangs were covering it and scowling at anyone who seemed to be staring at his forehead.

Harry shrugged as best he could. "I didn't know what it meant. It made me unique."

 **'He had had it as long as he could remember, and the first question he could ever remember asking his Aunt Petunia was how he had gotten it.**

 **'"In the car crash when your parents died," she had said. "And don't ask questions."'**

Professors and students alike were horrified. They couldn't tell if they were more horrified of the blatant lie Harry had been raised on, or the fact that he wasn't event allowed to be curious about anything. How was a person supposed to learn without asking questions? Of course, they thought bitterly, it seemed these Dursleys didn't want Harry to be properly aware of anything. Including his own parents' death.

 **'Don't ask questions - that was the first rule for a quiet life with the Dursleys.**

 **'Uncle Vernon entered the kitchen as Harry was turning over the bacon.**

 **'"Comb your hair!" he barked, by way of a morning greeting.**

 **'About once a week, Uncle Vernon looked over the top of his newspaper and shouted that Harry needed a haircut. Harry must have had more haircuts than the rest of the boys in his class put together, but it made no difference, his hair simply grew that way - all over the place.'**

People turned to look at him, as if these descriptions were the first time they've heard of Harry. But with his head still resting on the table, most people weren't able to see more than his friends sharing worried looks.

James ran his fingers through his own messy black hair. Fleamont Potter had always been rather upset that his son would hardly ever use the hair potion he made his fortune on, but James simply preferred the permanent wind-swept style. It would seem Harry would get stuck with the same look as well.

 **'Harry was frying eggs by the time Dudley arrived in the kitchen with his mother. Dudley looked a lot like Uncle Vernon. He had a large pink face, not much neck, small, watery blue eyes, and thick blond hair that lay smoothly on his thick, fat head. Aunt Petunia often said that Dudley looked like a baby angel - Harry often said that Dudley looked like a pig in a wig.**

 **'Harry put the plates of egg and bacon on the table, which was difficult as there wasn't much room. Dudley, meanwhile, was counting his presents. His face fell.**

 **'"Thirty-six," he said, looking up at his mother and father. "That's two less than last year."**

 **'"Darling, you haven't counted Auntie Marge's present, see, it's here under this big one from Mummy and Daddy."**

 **'"All right, thirty-seven then," said Dudley, going red in the face. Harry, who could see a huge Dudley tantrum coming on, began wolfing down his bacon as fast as possible in case Dudley turned the table over.**

 **'Aunt Petunia obviously scented danger, too, because she said quickly, "And we'll buy you another two presents while we're out today. How's that, popkin? Two more presents. Is that all right?"**

 **'Dudley thought for a moment. It looked like hard work. Finally he said slowly, "So I'll have thirty ... thirty..."**

 **'"Thirty-nine, sweetums," said Aunt Petunia.**

 **'"Oh." Dudley sat down heavily and grabbed the nearest parcel. "All right then."**

 **'Uncle Vernon chuckled. "Little tyke wants his money's worth, just like his father. 'Atta boy, Dudley!" He ruffled Dudley's hair.**

 **'At that moment the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it while Harry and Uncle Vernon watched Dudley unwrap the racing bike, a video camera, a remote control airplane, sixteen new computer games, and a VCR. He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when Aunt Petunia came back from the telephone looking both angry and worried.**

 **'"Bad news, Vernon," she said. "Mrs. Figg's broken her leg. She can't take him." She jerked her head in Harry's direction.**

 **'Dudley's mouth fell open in horror, but Harry's heart gave a leap. Every year on Dudley's birthday, his parents took him and a friend out for the day, to adventure parks, hamburger restaurants, or the movies. Every year, Harry was left behind with Mrs. Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. Harry hated it there. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs. Figg made him look at photographs of all the cats she'd ever owned.'**

Sirius shuttered slightly. He had never been much of a cat person to begin with, but cats seem to despise him since the few months he had fully transformed into his Animagus. He wouldn't wish anyone to have to interact with so many of those things so often. And with Harry's horrible life with the Dursley's, adding cats was just too much.

 **'"Now what?" said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Harry as though he'd planned this. Harry knew he ought to feel sorry that Mrs. Figg had broken her leg, but it wasn't easy when he reminded himself it would be a whole year before he had to look at Tibbles, Snowy, Mr. Paws, and Tufty again.**

 **'"We could phone Marge," Uncle Vernon suggested.**

 **'"Don't be silly, Vernon, she hates the boy."**

 **'The Dursleys often spoke about Harry like this, as though he wasn't there - or rather, as though he was something very nasty that couldn't understand them, like a slug.**

 **'"What about what's-her-name, your friend - Yvonne?"**

 **'"On vacation in Majorca," snapped Aunt Petunia.**

 **'"You could just leave me here," Harry put in hopefully (he'd be able to watch what he wanted on television for a change and maybe even have a go on Dudley's computer).**

 **'Aunt Petunia looked as though she'd just swallowed a lemon.**

 **'"And come back and find the house in ruins?" she snarled.**

 **'"I won't blow up the house," said Harry, but they weren't listening.**

 **'"I suppose we could take him to the zoo," said Aunt Petunia slowly, "... and leave him in the car..."**

 **'"That car's new, he's not sitting in it alone..."'**

"He could die in an overheated car!" Someone near the middle of the room shouted. "And they're concerned about it being new?"

 **'Dudley began to cry loudly. In fact, he wasn't really crying - it had been years since he'd really cried - but he knew that if he screwed up his face and wailed, his mother would give him anything he wanted.**

 **'"Dinky Duddydums, don't cry, Mummy won't let him spoil your special day!" she cried, flinging her arms around him.**

 **'"I... don't... want... him... t-t-to come!" Dudley yelled between huge, pretend sobs. "He always sp- spoils everything!" He shot Harry a nasty grin through the gap in his mother's arms.'**

"Merlin's beard…"

 **'Just then, the doorbell rang - "Oh, good Lord, they're here!" said Aunt Petunia frantically - and a moment later, Dudley's best friend, Piers Polkiss, walked in with his mother. Piers was a scrawny boy with a face like a rat. He was usually the one who held people's arms behind their backs while Dudley hit them. Dudley stopped pretending to cry at once.**

 **'Half an hour later, Harry, who couldn't believe his luck, was sitting in the back of the Dursleys' car with Piers and Dudley, on the way to the zoo for the first time in his life. His aunt and uncle hadn't been able to think of anything else to do with him, but before they'd left, Uncle Vernon had taken Harry aside.**

 **'"I'm warning you," he had said, putting his large purple face right up close to Harry's, "I'm warning you now, boy - any funny business, anything at all - and you'll be in that cupboard from now until Christmas."'**

No one wanted to know when Dudley's birthday was. They didn't want to know exactly how long Vernon's punishment threat was.

 **'"I'm not going to do anything," said Harry, "honestly…"**

 **'But Uncle Vernon didn't believe him. No one ever did.**

 **'The problem was, strange things often happened around Harry and it was just no good telling the Dursleys he didn't make them happen.**

 **'Once, Aunt Petunia, tired of Harry coming back from the barbers looking as though he hadn't been at all, had taken a pair of kitchen scissors and cut his hair so short he was almost bald except for his bangs, which she left 'to hide that horrible scar.' Dudley had laughed himself silly at Harry, who spent a sleepless night imagining school the next day, where he was already laughed at for his baggy clothes and taped glasses. Next morning, however, he had gotten up to find his hair exactly as it had been before Aunt Petunia had sheared it off. He had been given a week in his cupboard for this, even though he had tried to explain that he couldn't explain how it had grown back so quickly.**

 **'Another time, Aunt Petunia had been trying to force him into a revolting old sweater of Dudley's (brown with orange puff balls) – The harder she tried to pull it over his head, the smaller it seemed to become, until finally it might have fitted a hand puppet, but certainly wouldn't fit Harry. Aunt Petunia had decided it must have shrunk in the wash and, to his great relief, Harry wasn't punished.**

 **'On the other hand, he'd gotten into terrible trouble for being found on the roof of the school kitchens. Dudley's gang had been chasing him as usual when, as much to Harry's surprise as anyone else's, there he was sitting on the chimney. The Dursleys had received a very angry letter from Harry's headmistress telling them Harry had been climbing school buildings. But all he'd tried to do (as he shouted at Uncle Vernon through the locked door of his cupboard) was jump behind the big trash cans outside the kitchen doors. Harry supposed that the wind must have caught him in mid- jump.'**

Small, amused smiles crossed many faces through the Hall at the tales of Harry's accidental magic, but they were ultimately ruined with the accounts of the punishments that followed them. Accidental magic was a wonderful, natural thing and many kids loved to hear tales about their bursts when they were little. They were like treasured memories, proof that they had magic. Adults liked to compare their own experiences with each other and their kids, placing bets on what branch of magic their children will be better at, what they will enjoy and career paths they may take based on what magic they tended to do accidentally.

But these Dursley's, they ruined that for Harry. He'll never have any good memories of the magic he performed when it was just developing. He'll never know what his first burst of magic was, never have anyone claim they just knew what Harry was going to do when he grew up, never have any of those things most witches and wizards have. And these Dursley's are the main reason why. Even plenty of Muggleborn or Muggle raised kids had many fond memories of their early magic. But the Dursley's will continue to ruin Harry's life even after he grows up and leaves that place for good.

 **'But today, nothing was going to go wrong. It was even worth being with Dudley and Piers to be spending the day somewhere that wasn't school, his cupboard, or Mrs. Figg's cabbage-smelling living room.**

 **'While he drove, Uncle Vernon complained to Aunt Petunia. He liked to complain about things: people at work, Harry, the council, Harry, the bank, and Harry were just a few of his favourite subjects. This morning, it was motorcycles.**

 **'"...roaring along like maniacs, the young hoodlums," he said, as a motorcycle overtook them.**

 **'I had a dream about a motorcycle," said Harry, remembering suddenly. "It was flying."**

 **'Uncle Vernon nearly crashed into the car in front. He turned right around in his seat and yelled at Harry, his face like a gigantic beet with a moustache: "MOTORCYCLES DON'T FLY!"**

 **'Dudley and Piers sniggered.**

 **'"I know they don't," said Harry. "It was only a dream."**

 **'But he wished he hadn't said anything. If there was one thing the Dursleys hated even more than his asking questions, it was his talking about anything acting in a way it shouldn't, no matter if it was in a dream or even a cartoon - they seemed to think he might get dangerous ideas.'**

Pranksters smirked. Maybe they should watch some of these cartoons and show the Dursley's how dangerous ideas can get.

 **'It was a very sunny Saturday and the zoo was crowded with families. The Dursleys bought Dudley and Piers large chocolate ice creams at the entrance and then, because the smiling lady in the van had asked Harry what he wanted before they could hurry him away, they bought him a cheap lemon ice pop. It wasn't bad, either, Harry thought, licking it as they watched a gorilla scratching its head who looked remarkably like Dudley, except that it wasn't blond.**

 **'Harry had the best morning he'd had in a long time. He was careful to walk a little way apart from the Dursleys so that Dudley and Piers, who were starting to get bored with the animals by lunchtime, wouldn't fall back on their favourite hobby of hitting him. They ate in the zoo restaurant, and when Dudley had a tantrum because his knickerbocker glory didn't have enough ice cream on top, Uncle Vernon bought him another one and Harry was allowed to finish the first.'**

People bristled at the wording. _Allowed._ No one should have to be _allowed_ to do anything.

 **'Harry felt, afterward, that he should have known it was all too good to last.**

 **'After lunch they went to the reptile house. It was cool and dark in there, with lit windows all along the walls. Behind the glass, all sorts of lizards and snakes were crawling and slithering over bits of wood and stone. Dudley and Piers wanted to see huge, poisonous cobras and thick, man-crushing pythons. Dudley quickly found the largest snake in the place. It could have wrapped its body twice around Uncle Vernon's car and crushed it into a trash can - but at the moment it didn't look in the mood. In fact, it was fast asleep.**

 **'Dudley stood with his nose pressed against the glass, staring at the glistening brown coils.**

 **'"Make it move," he whined at his father. Uncle Vernon tapped on the glass, but the snake didn't budge.**

 **'"Do it again," Dudley ordered. Uncle Vernon rapped the glass smartly with his knuckles, but the snake just snoozed on.**

 **'"This is boring," Dudley moaned. He shuffled away.**

 **'Harry moved in front of the tank and looked intently at the snake. He wouldn't have been surprised if it had died of boredom itself – no company except stupid people drumming their fingers on the glass trying to disturb it all day long. It was worse than having a cupboard as a bedroom, where the only visitor was Aunt Petunia hammering on the door to wake you up; at least he got to visit the rest of the house.'**

Harry didn't look, but he could feel eyes on him. At the time when he thought it, he didn't think it sounded so bad, but now that he could really hear it, he knew how pathetic it sounded. He compared his situation, pretty accurately, to a zoo snake, and his only advantage was that he could walk around the house. And even then, truth was, only occasionally.

 **'The snake suddenly opened its beady eyes. Slowly, very slowly, it raised its head until its eyes were on a level with Harry's.**

 **'It winked.'**

Lily turned to Remus next to her. "I know magic is real and all," she whispered confused, "but snakes still can't wink, can they?"

Remus shook his head, glad to know he wasn't the only one who was confused.

 **'Harry stared. Then he looked quickly around to see if anyone was watching. They weren't. He looked back at the snake and winked, too.**

 **'The snake jerked its head toward Uncle Vernon and Dudley, then raised its eyes to the ceiling. It gave Harry a look that said quite plainly: "I get that all the time."**

 **'"I know," Harry murmured through the glass, though he wasn't sure the snake could hear him. "It must be really annoying."**

 **'The snake nodded vigorously.**

 **'"Where do you come from, anyway?" Harry asked.**

 **'The snake jabbed its tail at a little sign next to the glass. Harry peered at it.**

 **'Boa Constrictor, Brazil.**

 **'"Was it nice there?"**

 **'The boa constrictor jabbed its tail at the sign again and Harry read on: This specimen was bred in the zoo. "Oh, I see - so you've never been to Brazil?"**

 **'As the snake shook its head, a deafening shout behind Harry made both of them jump.**

 **'"DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT IT'S DOING!"**

 **'Dudley came waddling toward them as fast as he could.**

 **'"Out of the way, you," he said, punching Harry in the ribs.'**

Brief shouts of protest were heard following the sudden, and very largely unnecessary, act of violence.

 **'Caught by surprise, Harry fell hard on the concrete floor. What came next happened so fast no one saw how it happened - one second, Piers and Dudley were leaning right up close to the glass, the next, they had leapt back with howls of horror.**

 **'Harry sat up and gasped; the glass front of the boa constrictor's tank had vanished.'**

Many professors smiled. That was some impressive bit of magic, and accidental too. Although, it was a bit worrying that he was still performing accidental magic. Most magical children stopped displaying this around their eighth birthday. Harry was nearly eleven by this time. It was a bit worrisome.

 **'The great snake was uncoiling itself rapidly, slithering out onto the floor. People throughout the reptile house screamed and started running for the exits.**

 **'As the snake slid swiftly past him, Harry could have sworn a low, hissing voice said, "Brazil, here I come... Thanksss, amigo."**

 **'The keeper of the reptile house was in shock.**

 **'"But the glass," he kept saying, "where did the glass go?"**

 **'The zoo director himself made Aunt Petunia a cup of strong, sweet tea while he apologized over and over again. Piers and Dudley could only gibber. As far as Harry had seen, the snake hadn't done anything except snap playfully at their heels as it passed, but by the time they were all back in Uncle Vernon's car, Dudley was telling them how it had nearly bitten off his leg, while Piers was swearing it had tried to squeeze him to death. But worst of all, for Harry at least, was Piers calming down enough to say, "Harry was talking to it, weren't you, Harry?"'**

McGonagall closed her eyes briefly. Piers probably didn't even realise how much worse he made Harry's life.

 **'Uncle Vernon waited until Piers was safely out of the house before starting on Harry. He was so angry he could hardly speak. He managed to say, "Go - cupboard - stay - no meals," before he collapsed into a chair, and Aunt Petunia had to run and get him a large brandy.**

 **'Harry lay in his dark cupboard much later, wishing he had a watch. He didn't know what time it was and he couldn't be sure the Dursleys were asleep yet. Until they were, he couldn't risk sneaking to the kitchen for some food.**

 **'He'd lived with the Dursleys almost ten years, ten miserable years, as long as he could remember, ever since he'd been a baby and his parents had died in that car crash. He couldn't remember being in the car when his parents had died. Sometimes, when he strained his memory during long hours in his cupboard, he came up with a strange vision: a blinding flash of green light and a burning pain on his forehead.'**

The colour ran out of faces all across the Hall. They didn't realise Harry could remember anything from that night, let alone that much.

The past kids were horrified. They knew that Voldemort had failed to kill Harry and left only that scar, but they didn't realise that Harry had somehow managed to survive _the killing curse._ No wonder everyone was in awe of this poor boy. That shouldn't have been possible, and yet somehow…

 **'This, he supposed, was the crash, though he couldn't imagine where all the green light came from. He couldn't remember his parents at all. His aunt and uncle never spoke about them, and of course he was forbidden to ask questions. There were no photographs of them in the house.**

 **'When he had been younger, Harry had dreamed and dreamed of some unknown relation coming to take him away, but it had never happened; the Dursleys were his only family. Yet sometimes he thought (or maybe hoped) that strangers in the street seemed to know him. Very strange strangers they were, too. A tiny man in a violet top hat had bowed to him once while out shopping with Aunt Petunia and Dudley. After asking Harry furiously if he knew the man, Aunt Petunia had rushed them out of the shop without buying anything. A wild-looking old woman dressed all in green had waved merrily at him once on a bus. A bald man in a very long purple coat had actually shaken his hand in the street the other day and then walked away without a word. The weirdest thing about all these people was the way they seemed to vanish the second Harry tried to get a closer look.'**

Dumbledore sighed, wizards were being too obvious. Any Death Eater could have seen their interaction and put together who Harry was. Not to mention that it completely defeated the purpose of growing up outside of the limelight if wizards stopped and bowed to him in stores of all places.

 **'At school, Harry had no one. Everybody knew that Dudley's gang hated that odd Harry Potter in his baggy old clothes and broken glasses, and nobody liked to disagree with Dudley's gang.'"**

Harry hadn't lifted his eyes from their view on the table the entire chapter, but he could feel the pitying gazes on him. The room was tense and silent, no one knowing just what to say in light of these revelations.

After a bit, Harry could hear soft footsteps heading his direction and squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't know who was walking toward him or why, but he was largely not in the mood to deal with anything right now. The only thing he wanted was to just get these stupid books over with, so they can be done with all of this. Well, no. What he really wanted was for Umbridge to take her books and shove off and leave him alone. Or for Voldemort to not want to kill him. Or not to have gone to live with the Dursleys. Or his parents to have lived. Or-

Anything else.

Everything else.

Harry so dearly wished for anything- everything -to have gone differently in his life. Wished that he could just be normal. He didn't even have to be a wizard if that's what it took to just, be _normal_.

But the footsteps have gotten louder, and they paused right behind him. Harry sighed and straightened up turning around to meet the person there. He figured it would just be best to just confront whatever was coming, hoping that they would just say what they wanted to and then they would move on with this.

Harry turned halfway in his seat before arms wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him close. It took him a while to recognise the action as a hug.

He could see a curtain of vivid red hair in front of his eyes from the person leaning over him. His first thought was Ginny, but Harry could see her sitting near him through the red haze. He ran through a list of red-heads he knew in his head and, except for the Weasley's, came up empty. He didn't know anyone with red hair.

"I'm so sorry." The person, a girl apparently, whispered to him. Harry stiffened. The voice wasn't overly familiar, in fact he heard is for the first time today, but he recognised it.

No, Harry didn't know anyone else with red hair. That was part of the problem.

He squeezed his eyes shut as they prickled with oncoming tears. A soft sob managed to escape Harry and Lily squeezed him tighter. His mother was hugging him, something he had wanted for so long, and it was all wrong.

Harry was the same age as Lily, maybe even slightly older depending on the month she came from, and she had no memory of being his mother. Granted, Harry didn't have any memory of her being his mother either, but at least he knew it happened. He had longed for a true mother's hug for years and he hated that it came out of pity. She pitied the life he lived, and probably would have stayed in her seat down the table if his life wasn't complete shit. And he had been, relatively, content with just living out his shitty life and not letting anyone know about it; let everyone dwell in the delusion that Harry was treated famously wherever he went and never had a bad day fall upon him. Let them think what Umbridge was throwing at him was the worst he ever has, or will ever face.

But Umbridge wasn't content with that. She had to go and find some new clever way to ruin his life after he made it seem the Blood Quill no longer had any affect, after he was banned from Quidditch for _life_ , after everyone hated him, thought he killed Cedric, thought he was planning to overthrow the ministry, thought he was going dark, thought he was a liar, thought he sought attention, _as if he needed any more_.

No, that wasn't good enough for her. She wanted to crush him. To dig up every morally grey thing, every action or thought that wasn't absolutely, without a doubt, one hundred percent good and twist it to prove what she said. Whether Umbridge actually believed everything she was telling that world or not didn't matter. She knew exactly what to say and who to say it to in order to cause the most damage to those she believed less than her. She was pure evil and she was frightfully good at hiding it from the people who mattered.

Harry was full on sobbing by now and Lily had moved to sit next to him on the bench, rubbing circles on his back as he cried. He gripped at her shirt loosely, but he had mainly just sagged into her, his head shoved into her shoulder.

"Perhaps, now would be a good time to stop and allow Harry to breathe slightly easier for a while." Dumbledore muttered quietly to the faculty table, watching this exchange. The twinkle in his eye and long gone out and all the light had seemed to fade as well, leaving the bright blue a dull grey.

As expected, Umbridge leaned forward to disagree, but McGonagall was the one who spoke up first.

"As much as I hate it, Albus," McGonagall said, her voice flat, "I don't think it's a good idea to leave this as the last thing we hear. We need something that is at least somewhat better than a _cupboard under the stairs._ One more, and then we'll try to force Fudge to have a break. Maybe he'll even agree to stop this whole ridiculous thing altogether."

She highly doubted he would do that, but he had to hope. It was close to the only thing that allowed her to keep her emotions in check.

She knew that Harry wouldn't want to hear her apologise and would appreciate a sad look his way even less, so she closed her eyes briefly and hoped he understood.

She took a shaky breath before reading out: **'Chapter Three: The Letters from No One.'**


End file.
